ACT III
Blow, winds, and burst your cheeks. Rage louder yet!
3.1.2895Fantastic lightning singe, singe my white head.
3.1.3896Spout cataracts, and hurricanos fall
3.1.4897Till you have drowned the towns and palaces
Not all my best entreaties can persuade him
3.1.7900Into some needful shelter, or to 'bide
3.1.8901This poor slight covering on his aged head,
3.1.9902Exposed to this wild war of earth and heaven.
Rumble thy fill. Fight whirlwind, rain and fire!
3.1.11904Not fire, wind, rain or thunder are my daughters.
3.1.12905I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness.
3.1.13906I never gave you kingdoms, called you children,
3.1.14907You owe me no obedience. Then let fall
3.1.15908Your horrible pleasure. Here I stand your slave,
3.1.16909A poor, infirm, weak and despised old man.
3.1.17910Yet I will call you servile ministers,
3.1.18911That have with two pernicious daughters joined
3.1.19912Their high-engendered battle against a head
3.1.20913So old and white as mine. Oh! Oh! 'Tis foul.
Hard by, sir, is a hovel that will lend
I will forget my nature. What? So kind a father.
Consider, good my liege, things that love night
3.1.26919Love not such nights as this. These wrathful skies
3.1.27920Frighten the very wanderers of the dark,
3.1.28921And make them keep their caves. Such drenching rain,
3.1.29922Such sheets of fire, such claps of horrid thunder,
3.1.30923Such groans of roaring winds have never been known.
Let the great gods
3.1.32925That keep this dreadful pudder over our heads
3.1.33926Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
3.1.34927That hast within thee undiscovered crimes.
3.1.36929Thou perjured villain, holy, holy hypocrite,
3.1.37930That drinks the widow's tears, sigh now and cry
3.1.38931These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
Good sir, to the hovel.
My wit begins to burn.
3.1.42935Come on, my boy, how dost my boy? Art cold?
3.1.43936I'm cold myself. Show me this straw, my fellow.
3.1.44937The art of our necessity is strange,
3.1.45938And can make vile things precious. My poor knave,
3.1.46939Cold as I am at heart, I've one place there
The storm is in our louder revelings drowned.
3.1.49945Thus would I reign could I but mount a throne.
3.1.50946The riots of these proud imperial sisters
3.1.51947Already have imposed the galling yoke
3.1.53949The drudging peasants' neck, who bellow out
3.1.54950Their loud complaints in vain. Triumphant queens!
3.1.55951With what assurance do they tread the crowd.
3.1.56952Oh for a taste of such majestic beauty,
3.1.57953Which none but my hot veins are fit to engage!
3.1.58954Nor are my wishes desperate, for even now
3.1.59955During the banquet I observed their glances
3.1.60956Shot thick at me; and as they left the room
3.1.61957Each cast by stealth a kind inviting smile,
3.1.62.1959Two servants from several entrances deliver him each a letter, and exeunt. 3.1.63961"Where merit is so transparent, not to behold it
3.1.64962were blindness, and not to reward it ingratitude.
3.1.66964Enough! Blind and ingrateful should I be
3.1.67965Not to obey the summons of this oracle.
3.1.69968"If modesty be not your enemy, doubt not to
3.1.72971Excellent sybil! Oh, my glowing blood!
3.1.74973And pant for the possession -- here Gloster comes
3.1.75974With business on his brow. Be hushed my joys.
I come to seek thee, Edmund, to impart a business of
3.1.77976Importance. I know thy loyal heart is touched to see the cruelty
3.1.78977of these ingrateful daughters against our royal master.
Most savage and unnatural.
This change in the state sits uneasy. The commons repine aloud
3.1.81980at their female tyrants. Already they cry out for the
3.1.82981reinstallment of their good old king, whose injuries I fear will
'Tis to be hoped, not feared.
Thou hast it, boy, 'tis to be hoped indeed.
3.1.86985On me they cast their eyes, and hourly court me
3.1.87986To lead them on, and whilst this head is mine
3.1.88987I am theirs. A little covert craft, my boy,
3.1.89988And then for open action. 'Twill be employment
3.1.90989Worthy such honest daring souls as thine.
3.1.91990Thou, Edmund, art my trusty emissary.
3.1.92991Haste on the spur at the first break of day
3.1.93992With these dispatches to the Duke of Cambrai.
3.1.94994You know what mortal feuds have always flamed
3.1.95995Between this Duke of Cornwall's family and his.
3.1.97997The inveterate prince will send to our assistance.
3.1.98998Dispatch. Commend us to His Grace, and prosper.
Yes, credulous old man,
3.1.1021003To show him these contents in thy own character
3.1.1031004And sealed with thy own signet. Then forthwith
3.1.1041005The choleric duke gives sentence on thy life,
3.1.1061007To glut my pleasure that till now has starved.
3.1.106.11008Gloster going off is met by Cordelia entering, attended by Arante. Bastard observing at a distance. Turn, Gloster, turn, by all the sacred powers
3.1.1091011You must, you shall, nay I am sure you will,
3.1.1101012For you were always styled the just and good.
What wouldst thou, princess? Rise and speak thy griefs.
Nay, you shall promise to redress them too,
Oh, charming sorrow! How her tears adorn her
3.1.1181020And I must quench this hopeless fire in the kindling.
Consider, princess,
3.1.1201022For whom thou begg'st, 'tis for the king that wronged thee.
Oh, name not that. He did not, could not wrong me.
3.1.1231025This injured king ere this is past your aid,
I'll gaze no more -- and yet my eyes are charmed.
Or what if it be worse? Can there be worse?
3.1.1281030Has pierced his tender body, the bleak winds
3.1.1291031And cold rain chilled, or lightning struck him dead.
3.1.1321034That you'd convey me to his breathless trunk,
3.1.1341036With my torn hair to bind his hands and feet,
3.1.1361038To wash his clay-smeared cheeks, and die beside him.
Rise, fair Cordelia, thou hast piety
3.1.1381040Enough to atone for both thy sisters' crimes.
Dispatch, Arante,
3.1.1441047Go seek the king, and bring him some relief.
How, madam? Are you ignorant
I cannot dread the furies in this case.
In such a night as this? Consider, madam,
Therefore no shelter for the king,
3.1.1551058And we'll be shining proofs that they can dare
3.1.1561059For piety as much. Blow winds, and lightnings fall.
"Provide me a disguise, we'll instantly
3.1.1601064Go seek the king" -- Ha! Ha! A lucky change.
3.1.1611065That virtue which I feared would be my hindrance
3.1.1631067I'll bribe two ruffians that shall at a distance follow,
3.1.1641068And seize them in some desert place, and there
3.1.1651069Whilst one retains her the other shall return
3.1.1661070To inform me where she's lodged. I'll be disguised too.
3.1.1671071Whilst they are poaching for me I'll to the duke
3.1.1701074This Semele in a storm. 'Twill deaf her cries
3.1.1711075Like drums in battle, lest her groans should pierce
3.1.1721076My pitying ear, and make the amorous fight less fierce.
Here is the place, my lord. Good my lord, enter.
Let me alone.
Good my lord, enter.
Wilt break my heart?
Beseech you, sir.
Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm
3.1.1831089The lesser is scarce felt. The tempest in my mind
3.1.1861092Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
3.1.1871093For lifting food to it? But I'll punish home.
3.1.1911097Your old kind father whose frank heart gave all--
See, my lord, here's the entrance.
Well, I'll go in
3.1.1961102And pass it all. I'll pray and then I'll sleep.
3.1.1981104That abide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
3.1.1991105How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides
3.1.2001106Sustain this shock, your raggedness defend you
What art thou that dost grumble there in the straw?
Away! The foul fiend follows me -- through the sharp
3.1.2111118Hawthorn blows the cold wind -- Mum! Go to thy bed and warm
3.1.2121119Thee. -- Ha! What do I see? By all my griefs, the poor old
3.1.2141122And drenched in this foul storm. Professing siren,
Tell me, fellow, didst thou give all to thy daughters?
Who gives anything to Poor Tom, whom the foul fiend has
3.1.2181126led through fire and through flame, through bushes and bogs,
3.1.2191127that has laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew,
3.1.2201128that has made him proud of heart to ride on a bay-trotting horse
3.1.2211129over four inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a traitor?
3.1.2241132Star-blasting and taking. Do poor Tom some charity, whom
3.1.2251133the foul fiend vexes. -- Sa, sa, there I could have him now,
Have his daughters brought him to this pass?
3.1.2281136Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all?
He has no daughters, sir.
Death, traitor, nothing could have subdued nature
Pillicock sat upon Pillicock Hill; Hallo, hallo, hallo.
Is it the fashion that discarded fathers
3.1.2341142Should have such little mercy on their flesh?
3.1.2351143Judicious punishment, 'twas this flesh begot
Take heed of the foul fiend, obey thy parents, keep thy word
3.1.2381146justly, swear not, commit not with man's sworn spouse, set not
3.1.2391147thy sweetheart on proud array. Tom's a-cold.
What hast thou been?
A servingman, proud of heart, that curled my hair, used perfume
3.1.2421150and washes; that served the lust of my mistress's heart, and did
3.1.2431151the act of darkness with her. Swore as many oaths as I spoke
3.1.2441152words, and broke them all in the sweet face of heaven. Let not the
3.1.2451153paint, nor the patch, nor the rushing of silks betray thy poor
3.1.2461154heart to woman. Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of
3.1.2471155plackets, thy pen from creditors' books, and defy the foul fiend
3.1.2481156-- still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind --
3.1.2491157Sess, suum, mun, nonny, dolphin my boy -- hist! The boy,
Death! Thou wert better in thy grave, than thus to answer with
3.1.2521160thy uncovered body this extremity of the sky. And yet consider
3.1.2531161him well, and man's no more than this. Thou art indebted to the
3.1.2541162worm for no silk, to the beast for no hide, to the cat for no
3.1.2551163perfume -- Ha! Here's two of us are sophisticated; thou art
3.1.2561164the thing itself. Unaccommodated man is no more than such a poor
3.1.2581166Off, off, ye vain disguises, empty lendings.
3.1.2591167I'll be my original self. Quick, quick, uncase me.
Defend his wits, good heaven!
One point I had forgot; what's your name?
Poor Tom that eats the swimming frog, the walnut, and
3.1.2631171the water-nut; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend
3.1.2641172rages, eats cow-dung for salads, swallows the old rat and the
3.1.2651173ditch-dog, that drinks the green mantle of the standing pool;
3.1.2661174that's whipped from tithing to tithing; that has three suits to his
3.1.2711179Beware, my follower. Peace, Smulkin, peace, thou foul fiend.
One word more, but be sure true counsel. Tell me, is a madman a
I feared it would come to this, his wits are gone.
Fraterreto calls me, and tells me Nero is an
3.1.2761184angler in the lake of darkness. Pray, innocent, and beware the
Right, ha! Ha! Was it not pleasant to have a thousand with red
My tears begin to take his part so much
The little dogs and all, Trey, Blanch and Sweetheart, see they
Tom will throw his head at 'em. Avaunt, ye curs.
3.1.2931201Ud, de, de, de. Se, se, se. Come march to wakes and fairs and
You sir, I entertain you for one of my hundred, only I do not
3.1.2961204like the fashion of your garments. You'll say they're
3.1.2971205Persian, but no matter, let them be changed.
This is the foul Flibbertigibbet. He begins at curfew and
3.1.2991208walks at first cock; he gives the web and the pin, knits the
3.1.3001209elflock, squints the eye, and makes the harelip, mildews the
3.1.3011210white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of the earth.
What, has your grace no better company?
The prince of darkness is a gentleman; Modo he is called,
Go with me, sir, hard by I have a tenant.
3.1.3111220My duty cannot suffer me to obey in all your daughters' hard
3.1.3121221commands, who have enjoined me to make fast my doors, and let
3.1.3131222this tyrannous night take hold upon you. Yet have I ventured to
3.1.3141223come seek you out, and bring you where both fire and food is
Good my lord, take his offer.
First let me talk with this philosopher.
3.1.3181227Say, Stagirite, what is the cause of thunder?
Beseech you, sir, go with me.
I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.
How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.
Let me ask you a word in private.
His wits are quite unsettled. Good sir, let's force him hence.
Canst blame him? His daughters seek his death. This bedlam but
Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
3.1.3291238I smell the blood of a British man." -- Oh torture!
Now, I prithee, friend, let's take him in our arms, and carry him
3.1.3311241where he shall meet both welcome and protection. Good sir, along
You say right, let them anatomize Regan, see what breeds
3.1.3341244about her heart. Is there any cause in nature for these hard
Beseech your grace.
Hist! -- Make no noise, make no noise -- So so; we'll
Dear madam, rest ye here, our search is vain.
Prithee go in thyself, seek thy own ease.
3.1.3431255This tempest but diverts me from the thought
We have dogged them far enough, this place is private.
3.1.3461259I'll keep them prisoners here within this hovel,
3.1.3471260Whilst you return and bring Lord Edmund hither.
Nothing but this dear devil
3.1.3501264Should have drawn me through all this tempest.
3.1.3521267Soft, madam, we are friends. Dispatch, I say!
Help, murder, help! Gods! Some kind thunderbolt
What cry was that? Ha, women seized by ruffians?
The devil, the devil!
O speak, what are ye that appear to be
3.1.3611279Through the dead mazes of this dreadful night,
3.1.3621280Where (though at full) the clouded moon scarce darts
First say what art thou.
3.1.3651283Our guardian angel, that wert pleased to assume
O my tumultuous blood!
3.1.3691287By all my trembling veins, Cordelia's voice!
Whatever thou art, befriend a wretched virgin,
Who relieves Poor Tom, that sleeps on the nettle, with the
Alack, madam, a poor wandering lunatic.
And yet his language seemed but now well-tempered.
3.1.3841302Speak, friend, to one more wretched than thyself,
3.1.3871305A poor old man, who through this heath has strayed
3.1.3881306The tedious night. Speak, saw'st thou such a one?
The king, her father, whom she's come to seek
3.1.3901309Through all the terrors of this night. O gods!
3.1.3941313And is conveyed by some that came to seek him
3.1.3951314To a neighboring cottage; but distinctly where,
Blessings on them.
O Cordelia!
Ha! -- Thou know'st my name.
As you did once know Edgar's.
Edgar!
The poor remains of Edgar, what your scorn
Do we wake, Arante?
My father seeks my life, which I preserved
3.1.4091329Distressed Cordelia, and the gods have given it.
3.1.4101330That thought alone prevailed with me to take
3.1.4111331This frantic dress, to make the earth my bed,
3.1.4121332With these bare limbs all change of seasons 'bide,
3.1.4131333Noon's scorching heat, and midnight's piercing cold,
3.1.4161336Of clowns, or what's more wretched yet, their pity.
Was ever tale so full of misery!
But such a fall as this I grant was due
3.1.4191339To my aspiring love, for 'twas presumptuous,
3.1.4211341For well you know I wore my flames concealed,
3.1.4231343'Till you perceived my grief, with modest grace
3.1.4241344Drew forth the secret, and then sealed my pardon.
You had your pardon, nor can you challenge more.
What do I challenge more?
3.1.4281348When in my prosperous state rich Gloster's heir,
3.1.4311351Then what reception must love's language find
3.1.4321352From these bare limbs and beggar's humble weeds?
Such as the voice of pardon to a wretch condemned;
Ah! What new method now of cruelty?
Come to my arms, thou dearest, best of men,
3.1.4381358And take the kindest vows that ever were spoke
Is it possible?
By the dear vital stream that bathes my heart,
3.1.4421362These hallowed rags of thine, and naked virtue,
3.1.4431363These abject tassels, these fantastic shreds,
Generous charming maid,
3.1.4481368The gods alone that made, can rate thy worth!
Cold and weary,
Look, I have flint and steel, the implements
3.1.4591379Thy storm-drenched garments, ere thou lie to rest thee.
3.1.4601380Then fierce and wakeful as the Hesperian dragon,
3.1.4611381I'll watch beside thee to protect thy sleep.
3.1.4621382Meanwhile, the stars shall dart their kindest beams,